Always and Forever
by TheBrokenLady
Summary: Betrayal, war, assassins, and love- what could be complicated about that? Laleh is the premiere hassansin with one exception- she won't kill without justification; but as she runs from her past, she gets into more trouble than she ever bargained for. *the story takes place after the events of "Sands of Time"*
1. Always and Forever: Prelude pt 1

The great king of Persia, King Sharaman, had lived a long peaceful life with his two sons, Tus and Garsiv, as well as his newly adopted son, Dastan; however there had been growing tensions along the northern border of Persia with the Scythians. Over a period of escalated attacks against the Scythians, who lived along the border, the armies had been called, and relations began to strain between kings as armies stood only feet away from each other. Then just as the tension had reached its breaking point the kings arranged to meet in between the armies and possibly discuss a way to end the conflicts without spilling either Scythian or Persian blood.

It was a cool summer's night as Sharaman, his brother, Nizam, and his sons waited under a lavished tent that had been set-up for the meeting between the two kings. Red decorated carpets hung over rope pulled taught, and gathered upward to create a point atop the tent. A grand circular table sat low to the ground, bare minus the bowl of fruit placed at the center, which a small hungry hand plucked grapes from a vine, while sitting on one of the many plushed pillows encircling the table with golden tassels brushing the golden swirls of the carpets. Two boys rolled along the floor, practicing their wrestling techniques on each other as they awaited the arrival of the Scythian king. Sharaman paced the tent silently, his brown eyes glancing at the entrance to the tent periodically.

"They are late." He muttered to himself running his hands over his maroon robes. The boys stopped their wrestling and glanced upward at their father.

"We must give them time, Your Highness." A bald man said walking forth from the shadows, black liner around his eyes, rimming the brown coldness that no one else could see.

"Yes, I believe Uncle Nizam is right, Father. They might have run into some urgent problems." One of the boys who had been wrestling stood up and said. His hair was golden brown and reached just below his ear lobes. Sharaman stopped pacing and glanced down at his son with soft loving eyes. Walking over to the boy he leaned down and cupped the boy's face in his callused hands and kissed his forehead.

"My dear Tus, always the optimistic thinker." Tus smiled at his father. The boy sitting at the table scoffed.

"I bet they don't really want a peace." His skin was a shade darker than Tus', and his hair was darker as well. Sharaman glanced over in his other son's direction, but remained silent, the boy continued. "But that is fine with me! For there is no greater army than the Persian army! No one could stand a chance against us. I relish the day I finally get to fight along my men." Sharaman laughed softly at the boy's eagerness for blood.

"Garsiv, Garsiv, are you really so eager to spill blood?" Garsiv grew quiet and returned his attention to the grapes, finding them suddenly more interesting than the conversation being held. Nizam stared at Garsiv for a moment, his eyes searching for something that couldn't be found. Only a small boy, just a few years younger than Garsiv and Tus had yet to voice an opinion on the current situation, and Sharaman found that to be peculiar.

"And what of you, Dustan? How do you perceive this situation?" Sharaman asked the boy. His soft blue eyes gazed up at the king, while his sandy brown hair dusted just above his eyes which shined differently than the other boys.

"I can only assume what is going on to keep the king, but I'd rather not assume the worse." Dustan said taking a seat across from Garsiv, who gave Dastan a small glare that he didn't notice. Sharaman open his mouth to respond, the sounds of approaching, baying horses silenced the tent. All eyes turned and gazed toward the entrance, as muffled voices barely made it past the thick drapes. Then suddenly the elegant drapes were pulled aside to reveal a man and a young boy.

The man was well aged by the standards of time, with his long black hair showing signs of grey mingled within the dark, but all the color had left his thinly shaved facial hair that which framed his mouth, and a morsel of sweat clung to the forehead of the man. His vibrant green eyes stood out against his robes, and within those eyes was wisdom and fatigue. He wore the royal color of red, with gold ringlets attached, which gave off small metallic _clinks_ with every step. He was a tall man, and on a normal day stood with much prestige, but was now bent with weary and exhaustion. This was the king of southern Scythia- King Ateas.

The young boy stood with prestige only a young, prideful, prince would now. Unlike his father, this young prince was draped in a fine royal purple fleece with golden thread forming intercut patterns across his chest. The fleece was open to reveal a midnight black tunic with thin white threads forming a simple pattern across his collar bones, in which the shirt hung loosely too. The fine shirt was also loosely tucked into a pair of black beeches that hung on the boys small hips, and those beeches were tucked into a delicate, but hardy, pair of leather boots that stopped just below the boy's knees. Gold paint traced a simple pattern along the top and tip of the boots. His hair was darker than the night sky without a moon, and had a slight curl to it as it rested just below the boy's earlobe. This was Ateas' son- Cyrus.

"You must forgive my tardiness, dear Sharaman." Ateas spoke bowing deeply to the Sharaman, who likewise returned the gesture. "But as of tonight I became a father of a lovely, healthy, daughter." As he spoke his smile seemed to brighten the tent the way only a new father's smile could.

"Oh, but that is wonderful news! Congratulations! I assume you didn't want to leave your queen's side, and that is most understandable." Sharaman smiled as he glanced around at his young sons, recalling the joy he felt at their birth. Sharaman glanced at the young prince, Cyrus. "How does it feel knowing that you're going to be an older brother young man?" Cyrus smiled, and glanced up at his father, who smiled back at him.

"I'm very excited Your Highness." His voice was light, but by no means, small. Sharaman could tell that this boy was going to do great things with his life.

"My king, I believe now would be the best time to begin the talks of peace." Nizam said, having appeared unmoved by the sudden exchange of emotions. Sharaman glanced back at Nizam and nodded.

"Tus, would you please bring the scribe in?" Sharaman asked Tus, who nodded and went and fetched the scribe, as the kings and their sons sat down at the table, hoping to gather their first glance of political exchange.

They quickly found the exchange mind numbingly boring as the kings discussed borders, trade, etc, etc, for it seemed that the kings could agree, but still something need to be traded in exchange for a promise of no more agitation between the two powerful countries. As a stale-mate was met, Sharaman glanced down at his sons, and saw the sleep glazing over their eyes, and Cyrus's eyes as well. Sharaman ran his hands over his beard, stroking it slowly thinking carefully of a compromise. Then like the slow creep of spring an idea occurred to him, but he knew it might be a sensitive topic for the new father.

"King Ateas…might I be so bold as to suggest a way to not only strengthen our countries, but also guaranty the future of our generations." Sharaman began cautiously, searching the green seas of the Ateas for a reaction. Finally after a long silence and contemplation Ateas spoke.

"King Sharaman, are you suggesting that I sell off my new born daughter to one of your sons?" Ateas attempted to keep a steady tone, but allowed some anger and frustration to shine through. "Might I remind you that she was born only a few hours ago?" The agitation in his voice suddenly sparked re-interest on the rest of the people inside the tent. Sharaman's sons glanced gingerly between Ateas and their father, waiting to see what might happen. Cyrus just simple gazed up at his father also searching his eyes, while his own tried to hide his worry for his dear little sister.

"I have not forgotten, but I feel it would be in the best interest of our people if a marriage was to be conceived between our royal families." Sharaman glanced once again at his sons, trying to figure a way to make this happen. Ateas shared Sharaman's glance, and inspected the boys at a closer range, as if picking apart every detail about the young boys.

"I have no intention of selling off my daughter, while she is still a girl; I love my child dearly, and wish for her to make her own choice of husband when she would be ready." Ateas said holding his hands across the table, never once breaking eye contact with Sharaman. Sharaman sighed heavily; relieving the stress of the moment was bearing on him. Just as he opened his mouth to once again attempt to convince the king, it was Dastan who spoke called himself to attention, much to the disdain of his brothers.

"Um, if I might suggest something?" Dastan spoke quietly and timidly. Sharaman glanced at his son, the slight annoyance showing in his eyes, while Ateas just looked at the boy insignificantly. But as Sharaman looked into Dustan's eyes he saw something that promptly gave Sharaman a change of heart.

"If it is alright with you, Ateas, I would like to hear what my son, Dastan has to say." Sharaman glanced at Ateas, who nodded slowly. "Dastan?"

"I can only imagine what it would feel like, being asked to give away your only daughter at such a young age, not only to a king, but also a stranger, King Ateas." Dastan began, looking directly at Ateas. "And that is why I've come up with a suggestion to solve possibly both of our nation's predicaments. What if, instead of outright just saying no to the idea, we give your daughter the right to choose her husband between the three of us?"

"She cannot do that, for she is just a baby now." Ateas retorted. Dastan nodded and continued.

"Yes she is now, but what I'm suggesting is that we return once a year from now and visit with her, watch her grow, and possibly fall in love with one of us, and at an age that is most desirable for you, your Highness, after she has gotten to know us she can pick based on her experiences with us." Dastan concluded. The tent was silent as both kings contemplated the idea. Pride, shined through in Sharaman's eyes as he gazed at Dastan.

"The idea is not a bad one…"Ateas finally spoke after working through the details. "Could you possibly make it here a week out of your year to come and visit with my daughter?" Ateas asked Sharaman, who smiled proudly.

As the papers were signed and hands were shaken, and good-byes said, Cyrus pulled Dustan aside to talk with him privately.

"You seem like a good man, Prince Dastan, and it would please me if my sister would choose you." Cyrus stood almost an inch taller than Dustan, so Dastan was forced to look up to him. "I can do whatever is within my power to convince her to pick you, if that would make you happy?" Dastan laughed softly, not in an insulting way but rather and friendly way.

"Your offer is very kind, Prince Cyrus, but I wish for the young Princess to make a decision that is not anyone else's but her own." Cyrus smiled again.

"You'll be a great leader some day. I know it." With that Cyrus slightly bowed and followed his father out of the tent. A few moments passed, as the group listen to the sound of the king and son mounted their horses and rode of, back toward their home. Once silence had fallen again, Sharaman burst out in loud, full-hearted laughs, filling the whole tent with his ringing voice.

"Oh Dastan!" Sharaman exclaimed happily lifting Dastan under the armpits and hosting him into the air. "What a grand idea you had! You have done a great service for your country." Sharaman slowly lowered Dastan back to the ground. Nizam stepped forward and dismissed the scribe, his eyes gazing at Dastan.

"Indeed, you shall make a good leader someday Dastan." Nizam said ruffling the young prince's hair, the only sign of affection that he would dare show. Tus and Garsiv stood off to the side looking at Dastan with mixed emotions. Both wanted their father's attention and affection, and jealousy was setting in.

The terms of the treaty between the kingdom's of Scythia and Persia were as follows; Once a year, on the anniversary of the signing of the treaty, Sharaman and his three son's would journey to Ateas' palace and spend a week there, allowing the three sons time to bond with the young daughter of Ateas, Selene, and on her 17th birthday she would be allowed to choose between the three, either Tus, Garsiv, or Dastan, and by her 18th birthday would marry a prince of Persia. But as the fates would have it something would change everything that appears serene.

The sun beat down against the golden sand, reflecting the heat back into the faces of the traveling royal guard. It was the day of the signing of the treaty between Scythia and Persia, and the young son's of Sharaman now a year older traveled to the palace of King Ateas to finally meet the young Princess Selene. The group rode in silence, each one think of ways to possibly impress the young princess. The royal guard heading the group was greeted at the border, by King Ateas, Prince Cyrus and the royal guards.

"King Sharaman! What a pleasure it is to see you again." Ateas greeted Sharaman and his young sons, bending in his saddle in slight bow.

"And you too, Ateas." Sharaman returned the bow, as Ateas rode up next to Sharaman and began conversing about the state of affairs.

A few hours into the ride, the rolling sand hills began to change as large rocks jutted from below the surface, which too slowly changed into green pastors, where farmers were busy laboring under the hot sun, growing and tending to their crops. Most stopped to look up and shout a "Long live the King" or "Hail Scythia", but most were caught up in their work, which was fine with the guards, for a shouting bustling crowd made it harder on them to protect their kings and princes. The farms began to dissipate and slowly more small homes, made of simple stone and mud, began to come together. These people, who stayed home, stood outside their doorways and waved, smiling, and laughing in excitement at the royal families. As the group traveled farther into the settlements, in the distance a wall enclosing a massive settlement ascended from the ground as if from born from the earth.

This was the city of Tuva the grand city of southern Scythia, home to the royal family of the region. The city was protected behind a looming wall of stone, reaching toward the heights of the highest, most beautiful spire. Interact patterns of glittering stone outlined the Scythian history on the walls, while the massive doors, open to the public, was guarded by two massive stone lions, with their mouths open in a permanent roar, flashing their fearsome teeth, it was a sight that would strike fear into the heart of any brave soldier. The young Persian prince's stared at the lions and admired the craftsmanship, while their father simply laughed at their gawked faces.

The town within the walls was different than those that the caravan had encountered outside. People bustled to and fro, but not without stopping and paying their respects to the kings and their company. The sounds and scents of new exotic worlds greeted the young prince's inexperienced mind, exciting their curiosity as they gazed out at the market place, looking for everything that they didn't recognize from their lands.

The main street was wide enough to allow foot traffic running in both directions to part and let the Kings pass, and looming high above and in front of them was the great temple of the Scythian royal family. To add even more grandeur to the whole fact was that the temple was not built atop a hill, meaning that, on ground level the temple stood farther above them than any temple built in Persia, possibly besides the holy city of Alamut, giving the city of Tuva a bird's eye view of the surrounding area. If an attack came from any direction, the Scythians' would know.

Another long wall ran around the Scythian temple, to separate the lower classes from the upper classes and royal family. This wall was more decorated than the outer wall surrounding the whole city. For it not only had patterns carved into the stone, but stained tiles of the royal colors of Scythia, purple, red, and gold, embedded into the upper reaches of the walls. Passing guards hurried across the top of the walls, shouting orders to open the gates, and keep their eyes open. The gates pulled away from each other to reveal the lush green gardens of the upper city. Green life sprang forward from the multiple exotic palm trees, and bushes growing around the water source, blooming with all kinds of flowers that released their delicate fragrance into the air. The upper city children ran through the thin puddles of water, giggling and laughing while their attendants attempted to pull them out. The Persian Princes smiled and continued to gaze around the lavished upper city. The homes were two storied with courtyards and terraces overlooking the street. The wealthy families looked over the edge of the terrace at the passing convoy and smiled and waved.

Then before them stood the massive gates guarding the Scythian family temple which loomed high above the gates. Dustan and his brothers glanced upward the tallest spire, but with the sun behind it, the glace forced the boys to look back down. Glancing back to the road as gates opened up before the group they entered the realm of the royal family of Scythia. As they gazed upward at the majesty of the towers, little did they know the dark secrets that lay beneath their feet.

After Sharaman and the boys had been given a tour of the royal palace they were placed inside a very large and comfortably decorated room. Sharaman glanced out the room's large balcony overlooking the open fields beyond the city with the blazing sun low in the sky, and wondered the situation that lay before him. _Which of my son's is best for the young princess? And who will she choose? _He turned and walked back into the room and saw Tus and Dustan sitting next to each other around the table looking over a map of the city, pointing and whispering amongst each other. Garsiv however sat on a large purple pillow and moved his small blade along a wet stone, sharpening the edge and admiring its gleam and beauty. Sharaman often worried about Garsiv, more involved with warfare than that of the people.

"Garsiv." Sharaman called to him. Garsiv stopped sharpening the blade and glanced up, and his father motioned for him to come to him on the balcony. Sheathing his blade and placing the stone on the pillow Garsiv readily came to his father's side. Sharaman smiled and placed a hand around the young boy's shoulders and turned him toward the city.

"What is it father?" Garsiv asked looking over the horizon with keen eyes.

"What do you think of the might of Tuva, my son?" Sharaman asked Garsiv. He snorted and glanced up at his father.

"It pales in comparison to Avrat father." Sharaman sighed heavily and patted Garsiv on the head, silently hoping that someday Garsiv would be able to see further than his own home, the grander picture in his life. A mixed look of confusion and anger came over Garsiv's face as he glanced back out at the city, looking for something he felt he might have missed. Sharaman dismissed Garsiv to return back to his pillow seat, his eyes following the young child the entire way. As Garsiv took his place on the pillow and began to sharpen his blade, a knock came from the door.

"Enter." Sharaman said walking back into the room. The door opened and there stood a very regal looking man with wrinkles and gray hair, as well as a group of servants behind him.

"My lord." He bowed "We have come to dress the royal family for this evening's dinner." Sharaman nodded his head and the group moved into the room and began to help the boys and the king prepare.

The family was dressed in the brilliant colors of red with golden trimmings, their crowns decorated with frosted jewels of their ancestors. The king wore the biggest crown, naturally, and Tus, Garsiv and Dustan all wore small gold bands with a large gem placed in the center. Each of the boys stood behind their father with bright shining faces, waiting to meet the young princess for the first of many times to come.

The regal head servant returned after the group had finished being prepared and with a quick word with Sharaman led the party down the long hallways.

"Your introduction to the princess will be halfway through the evening my lords. You will each be individually introduced to the young princess, so when your name is called you will slowly make your way up to beside the queen and glance in at the young child." He told them, without turning to look them in eye, but rather keeping up a brisk walking pace. The princes followed as quickly as they could while attempting to remember what the servant was telling them.

Just before their entrance into the main hall, the servant bid them farewell, and they waited for their introduction into the hall of crowded Scythian royal family.

"Introducing His Royal Highness of Persia, Sharaman, as well as the young princes of Persia, Prince Tus, Prince Garsiv, and Prince Dustan!" The herald shouted as the trumpets began to sound and the drums began their rhythmical beat. Then the large doors opened into the bright room and the Persian family was cast into the world of Scythian royalty.


	2. Always and Forever: Prelude pt 2

I had always been uncomforted by large gathering of royal families. In all truth I'd rather go against an army any other day then face a room full of power hungry distant relations. I glanced around the as I followed Tus in, my head held high as I looked around at the purple clothed room, catching the eye of people from all corners of the world, young, old, bitter, excited, you name it and you probably would have found it here in this room.

After our introduction father gave us one last glance before he was plunged into the usual political world of foreign affairs. Not waiting to see if Tus or Dustan would follow I took off towards no direction in particular. I parted the sea of purple, walking with my hands behind my back and my chin proudly held up high.

"So usual of a Persian prince." A cool voice said from behind me. Stopping I turned and looked at the boy who stood behind me. I did not recognize his face but he wore the royal emblem of the Scythian family. He held a glass of wine in his hand and he walked toward me with confidence swaying in his step. He was younger than I, but from the way he walked and talked, I assumed he thought he was older, wiser.

"And who might you be to insult me?" I asked my voice creeping with annoyance. He took a sip from his wine glass and swirled it around as if he had all the time in the world.

"I am Cambyses; my father is brother to the King." Cambyses replied after a moment of pause. I scoffed at him, causing him to turn bright red. "What?" He asked accusingly.

"Oh nothing." I attempted to hide the smile on my face and I glanced downward at my feet to keep myself from laughing.

"What?" Cambyses asked once again, this time more coldly. "I implore you to tell me what you find so amusing." I looked up at Cambyses again.

"I find it…entertaining that you hold such a high opinion of yourself despite the fact that you shall never have the throne." My remark had clearly upset the delicate balance Cambyses' self, but before he could retort Dustan came running up from behind him.

"Garsiv." Dustan said my name and grabbed my arm. "The king and queen are about to enter. We must be in the front to greet them." I followed Dustan back into the crowd and cast a glance back to Cambyses.

"Another time then?" I called back to him.

"Yes. Another time." Was his response, and I could have sworn I saw something in those cold black eyes that made even me shiver.

As Dustan brought me to the front I only had a second to fix my crown before the trumpets began to call once again. The crowd turned and glanced back at the halls giant doors swung inward to reveal the royal family. Ateas walked slightly ahead of his family, with the queen walking behind him holding a bundle in her arms, the princess, and Cyrus pulled up the rear of the group. I had seen Ateas and Cyrus before, but the queen was a sight to behold. Her long blonde hair fell effortlessly into beautiful tumbles stopping just below her waist and her hazel eyes seemed to go on forever, ensnaring those who looked into them in their beauty and kindness. This was Queen Katherine. The crowd of people split and bowed deeply as the beautiful family seemingly glided by. As Ateas grew even with my father they bowed to one another and he walked up the steps to his throne. Katherine after bowing to our father gave Dustan, Tus and I a quick glance of unreadable emotion, then followed her husband up the steps with Cyrus quickly behind her. Katherine placed the Princess in a cradle that lay next to her throne carefully and as she pulled her hands out smiled at the girl within. Then in cession they all sat down and glanced over the crowd of those gathered before them.

"My dearest friends, and esteemed guest, we have gathered here for the first of many visits from the Royal Princes of Persia to meet my fairest daughter, Selene. And on her eighteenth birthday she shall choose one of these Princes to become her lawfully wed husband there by binding our two great empires." Ateas called over the crowd getting both applause and muffled whispers. I cast a quick glance from the corner of my eye to the crowd behind me, glaring at those who casted dirty looks at my father. I had half a mind to challenge them all to a duel, but Tus' placed his hand on top of mine as I reached for my sword and shuck his head no. Locking eyes with him I nodded and turned back to Ateas, trying to subside my anger.

Ateas looked down upon my brothers and I, extending his hand out to us.

"Prince Tus." Tus walked forward stiffly, as if uncertain in his own actions. He began his ascension up the stairs and bowed to the king and to the queen then cast a glance inside the cradle. Suddenly all the rigidness in his body seemed to melt away as he gazed inside at the tiny girl and a smile came upon his face. From the bottom of the steps I saw him introduce himself and in his eyes there seemed to be only kindness. Reluctantly, Tus pulled himself away from the cradle and back down the steps with new vigor, but still remained princely about it. Once he had taken his place back among Dustan and I we glanced upwards again at Ateas.

"Prince Dustan." Dustan slowly began up the stairs as well. The same thing happened to him as he gazed at the Princess, and my curiosity began to grow about what she might have looked like to cause these effects upon my brothers. And as Dustan came back down and stood next to me, I could fight the butterflies in my stomach any longer.

"Prince Garsiv." When Ateas called my name it was like a knife piercing through a fog and I glanced upward at him he moved his hand toward the cradle. Without even realizing my feet began to move by themselves slowly step by step up the stairs. I kept eye contact with Ateas till about half way up then I turned and looked at Queen Katherine. Her beauty shocked me out of my trance and I gave her a respectful nod of my head and she returned it a small smile placed upon her lips. I glanced at the cradle and felt my heart beat begin to rise and my palms become sweaty. I closed my eyes and as I came up to the edge of the cradle I slowly opened them and look at Selene.

It didn't take long to find out how my brothers had been so enchanted by her. She was so small, yet already she had thin blonde hair flowing from her head. Her small hands were clenched into tiny fist and she slept on her back. I couldn't help but smile and laugh a little at how cute she was. Then something happened I did not expect. Selene opened her eyes. She looked around her settings at first then caught glance of me. Startled at first, her expression changed from one of fear to one of happiness. Her green eyes captured my soul and held me there, I couldn't look away no matter how much I tried, not that I really wanted to look away. A big smile plastered across her face and she reached up to me with her tiny hands.

"She likes you." I turned and saw Queen Katherine standing behind me glancing down at her child with a soft smile on her face. "I've never seen her warm up to anyone outside the family so quickly." Katherine casted her eyes at me and held them there for a moment.

"She's a very beautiful child." I managed to say as I looked back down at the wiggling child who continued to reach for me. "May I?" I turned back to Katherine. She gave an uncertain nod. I reached my hand inside the cradle and was surprised at the strong grasp of the small child as she held onto my finger. I laughed again smiled down at Selene. "Hello Princess. My name is Garsiv." She laughed at me and let go of my finger. Taking that as the sign that I was free to go I bowed to Katherine and slowly began my descent down the stairs and back with my family. The image of the laughing child burned into the back of my mind. _I have to be the one she chooses. _I swore to myself and gripped my fist in determination that I would make Selene fall in love with me.

It wasn't long after the boys were introduced to the Princess that things in the hall returned to their normal state of political talk and economic trading policies. Dustan, Tus, and Garsiv stood around slightly in a daze at what had just happened, each one thinking about how Selene had impacted them, ignoring the world that moved around them.

"Boys?" Sharaman called to them, breaking the trance. The boys looked to their father who stood with a man with long grey hair and beard, but his eyes were a startling blue. His lean body seemed out of place against those eyes, which rang of peace alongside his polite smile. When Sharaman had the boy's attention he continued. "This is Croesus, brother to Ateas." Croesus bowed to the young princes, a favor which they returned.

"It is nice to meet the future kings of Persia at such peaceful times. You never know when your friends might become your enemies so cherish them while you can." He and Sharaman laughed heartily together.

"Father." Cambyses pushed himself into the group and sent a glare at Garsiv as he stood by his father's side.

"Yes what is it Cambyses?" Croesus looked to his son, placing his hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Mother calls for you." Cambyses responded looking up to his father.

"Ah, well, I wish we had more time to talk but, the Misses is calling." Croesus handed his cup to a nearby servant. "And I've found it is best not to keep her waiting very long." Sharaman laughed and held his cup up in agreement as Croesus walked away after giving the group a final farewell. Cambyses didn't waste the moment to shot one last glare at Garsiv before following his father into an adjacent hallway after bidding a goodnight to his brother. _It's such a shame that a good man like that has such a son as him. _Garsiv thought to himself.

Time continued to pass in the hallway, but Dustan, Tus and Garsiv found it difficult to keep themselves occupied when they were bored practically to death of the whole thing. Luckily for them the Ateas and Katherine had as well. They stood together in unison and the crowd turned and gazed at them, waiting to hear the king speak.

"My friends, it has been a long night and I wish you all an every good rest of your evening. Good night." Ateas said as Katherine gathered Selene and walked together from the hall, everyone bowing as they passed once again, for the final time that night. After their departure Sharaman turned to his sons.

"Alright boys, I think it is time we took leave as well. It's a long ride back to Avrat, and I want all of you to be wide awake for it." Sharaman said leading the boys to the hall's doors, which no one fought. Garsiv casted a single look back at the cradle as he passed through the doors from around his father's cloak's sleeve. As the doors shut the in the side of the cradle Garsiv could have sworn he saw a crack, then nothing.

Once we had been situated back inside our room and getting ready to lie down in our bed, I cast a glance outside the open balcony window and at the stars that graced the black night's sky. Selene's face burned into the back of my mind and the very being of my heart. _If I am ever to marry- it shall be only her. _I thought to myself holding my arms against my chest, hoping to keep the warm feeling from flowing out. With her face on my mind I slowly began to fall asleep thinking that nothing better in the world than knowing her.

A scream filtered through my dreams and rocked me awake, along with my brothers. Groggily I looked around to find that the moon was low in the sky and the hints of the morning sun mingled with the sky. A chill had crept into the room, but it was not from the morning sun. I looked to my father who stood up and raced to the door, his sword in hand, not caring that his white night gown flowed behind him. Suddenly everything began to sink in. Something had happened. Following my father's example I grabbed my sword which lay beside my bed and ran outside the now open door.

Barely being able to keep up with my father's long strides we traveled down hallways and corridors alongside servants and guards who shouted orders around us. I couldn't make out the words they said, for my heart was racing like a turbine as my steps increased their pace. Finally we came to the scene of the scream.

On the ground lay two dead guards, their bodies mangled and twisted with blood in the corners of their mouths and strewn across the walls like paint. Daggers protruded from one of the guard's chest and the other's throat had been slashed wide open. I had seen dead men before, but never enjoyed the sight and I held back my bile as I followed my father past the open doors. Peeling my eyes away from the guard's face which seemed to echo their pain I glanced around the room we had entered, and was shocked to find it was the King's Chambers. Father stopped just after the door way.

"Ateas." He called to the king. I peaked around my father and saw the king yelling at guards, while Katherine sat in on the bed, pale and mute her whole body slowly shaking. Her once stunning eyes now seemed blank and empty as she gazed off into the distance. Ateas turned away from the guards and at my father.

"Sharaman." His voice was unsteady, and his knuckles were white from gripping his sword hilt tightly. "Are you in anyway involved with this?" Ateas hissed under his breath. Sharaman took a step forward closing the distance between them.

"In what? What has happened here?" Sharaman responded, not taking to heart the accusation of Ateas. Father knew the king was frazzled and wasn't thinking straight. Ateas' eyes cleared for a moment and he glanced downward at me, behind my father. Father followed his gaze and found me behind him. "Garsiv, return to the room. Now." I glanced around the room, unwilling to listen to father.

"But-" I stuttered.

"No buts, now do as I say!" He shouted motioning for a servant to take me back to the room. A woman came and gently pushed me toward the door. I cast one last glance in the room and I felt as if something was missing, but couldn't quite figure out what.

The servant brought me back to the room were Tus and Dustan awaited my return. Ignoring their questioning glances I walked over to the bed and placed my sword back on the ground.

"Garsiv." Tus said walking around me. "What has happened?"

"Two guards were killed outside the King's Chambers." I responded crossing my legs and looking into his eyes. Tus became pale and sat down opposite me.

"And the King?" He asked timidly afraid of the answer.

"Alive and well. Shaken but well." Tus let out a heavy sigh and folded his hands across his mouth.

"Where is father?" Dustan asked taking a seat next to Tus.

"He is with the king, but I was ushered out like a child before I could find anything out." I hissed through my teeth in anger. Tus opened his mouth to offer his response but the sound of the doorknob creaking caused the boys to stop conversing and turn to look.

In walked father, surrounded by a group of guards with tense faces and shifty eyes, and even father looked put on edge.

"Father?" Tus asked standing up and taking a step towards him, but father moved past him to the balcony. Once in the open air he gripped the balcony's edge and hung his head down between his shoulders, and then silence. No one talked, but instead waiting for him to say something.

"Pack your things." Finally his words reached them. No one moved.

"Father…?" Dustan finally asked. Father didn't move for a moment then sighed heavily. He turned and walked back into the room. Once in front of us he glanced at each of us individually.

"The young princess was taken." He finally spoke. The words ran through me like a cold blade, stopping my heart and my breathing. I slowly sat down trying to catch my breath of form any type of coherent thought. Then like a flood of water, anger and frustration came over me.

"Who? Who was it father?" I asked standing back my hand gripping my swords hilt. Father looked at me and there was a glance of admiration and something else in his eyes.

"There are no evident suspects, but it is believed to be the work of hassansins." Father responded placing his hands on my shoulders, and looking into my eyes even deeper. The fire didn't diminish in my heart but I knew that nothing could be done at that moment. I shared Father's stare then looked down releasing my grip on my sword, and he responded by gripping my shoulders reassuringly. "This is why we need to return to Avrat as soon as possible." Father released my shoulders and began to ready himself for the long journey back home.

"But Father why?" Tus asked as he watched Father.

"Yes, we should stay and try to help aid Ateas with finding young Selene." Dustan agreed standing next to his brother. Father stopped packing and turned to look at all of us as we stood together for the first time together on something and smiled gently.

"I wish we could stay to help, but at the current state of affairs, Ateas trusts us to not have taken the young princess, but that cannot be said for the rest of the royal family. Retaliation will come just as quick as it will blind." Dustan and Tus stared at Father for a long moment, wishing to continue their insistent that they should stay.

"Father is right," I spoke up, despite my own feelings "we have to go. We can continue to help the search, but it would be best from behind our own borders." Dustan and Tus looked at me as if I had possibly gone mad, but I ignored their looks at turned to start packing.

"Garsiv," Tus walked up behind me "have you already turned your back on the Princess?"

"No!" I snapped frustrated. "More than anyone I want to stay and help, but I know the consequences of doing so and would risk them all, but I won't risk my family's lives as well."

"That is well spoken Garsiv." Father praised. "Now boys please- go pack."


	3. Always and Forever: Chapter One

"Move faster you idiot or your enemies will cut you down!" the training master shouted as I ducked a blade sailing just above my head. Tucking and rolling I went to retrieve the weapon I'd just been disarmed from only to sense an attack coming from my side. Spinning, the blade of a spear narrowly cut my clothing, but caught no skin to my relief; those things were dipped in poison wouldn't you guess. Gripping the pole of the spear I, kicked the handler, ducked once again and pivoted left to avoid the sword from earlier, spun around with the spear in my hands. Even with my adrenaline pumping I stopped the swinging motion of my spear from slicing the head off of my attacker. "Finish him." I glanced at the training master and then back to my sparring partner. His eyes showed no fear as if he too thought that losing this battle should cost him his life as well. Through labored breath, I took a deep sigh and lowered my weapon away from his throat.

"No." Was my response. A few years ago this caused the training master to become furious and beat me within an inch of my life; but now years later, all he did was flush red with anger and place his hand on the spiked whip attached to his hip. I dropped the spear into the sand and moved out of the room before he could say anything else.

Even after twenty years living in this hellhole, training every day to become a hassansin, I refused to take a life without justification; this didn't make me very popular among my elders or peers. I wondered why they even bothered keeping me around sometimes. Movement from above caught my eye and I glanced upward to see our leader looking down at me with a quizzical look.

"What?" My voice was cold. Ever since the Zolm had died, his son had taken up management and seemed to have some sort of fascination with me, one that was not very welcomed.

"You never kill. Yet you are hassansin. Is your job description not TO kill?" He asked in a low steady voice.

"Well this wasn't my first career choice to be honest." I responded curtly walking away, not really wishing to have yet another argument about my kill quota. _I don't belong here. _All I'd ever wanted to do was escape, hell I even tried a few times when I was younger, but was captured and once again beaten. I had been raised in here, yet was never truly apart of the scenery; I failed as a woman hassansin, to seduce men and slit their throats once they are asleep, so the masters opted to place me with the men in strength training instead. Which was great for me, but not so much for them; being a woman I was more nimble and quick, relying on my speed and cunning rather than strength as most of the men did. This made me the best potential killer the hassansins had, that is if I would kill.

I moved through the mud house, taking many twist and turns only relying on my own memory of these hallways. Since hassansins were meant to be disbanded our homes and hideouts had moved underground deep within cities or in the many caves of our region. The cold air gradually became warmer as I moved toward the surface and I removed the black cloak that I had draped myself in during my spar. Emerging from the dark cave into the midday sun light I closed my eyes and looked at the scenery laid out before me.

Rolling barren lands stretched out as far as the eye could see; to the east only a tiny blimp of Avrat could been seen, humbling the massive Persian capital that it was. Moving my eyes farther south, if you were to stare hard enough it was said that you may even see the highest spire of Alamut, but no matter how closely I looked I was never able to see that spire. A rogue breeze drifted down into the cave causing a few strands of my blonde hair to move in front of my face, probably the most notable thing about me- my long blonde hair. Mostly in this region you will find dark brown or black hair, but my blonde hair told me that where ever I came from it clearly wasn't this country.

"Laleh;" A man's voice brought me back to reality. "Balthazar would like to see you in his chambers." I grunted in response, and listened as the messenger walked off. Ever since I had turned eighteen this leader was constantly trying to get me to sleep with him. I had a feeling tonight he would ask once again, he usually did once a month, but this time was different. Something in the air made me feel uneasy, as if tonight would happen even against my wishes. Just the thought alone was enough to make my hair stand up on edge.

I glanced once more off into the distance, watching the sun slowly fall down onto the horizon changing the sky from blue to red. So many times I stood in this spot and thought about just leaving and never looking back, but something always stopped me from taking that first step down the mountain side. Maybe it was the thought that even if I left I would be hunted down and brought back…but I was stronger now than last time. I turned to walk back into the cave, my feet moving as fast as boulders and my head flying away into that setting sun…I stopped. Looking forward into the darkness I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I jumped.

Wind whistled past my ear and scenery blended into a haze of neutral colors as I practically flew down the hill. Loose gravel kicked out under my feet, racing me down the hill as if it knew the trouble that would follow behind me in the next few hours; but I dared not look back. There was only one way out now and it lay expanded out ahead, ready for the taking. Dodging large rocks that jutted out from bellow the mountain side, more and more gravel joined in my decent creating a dust cloud and some noise. Fear crept into the pit of my stomach, and my head told me to slow down or someone would notice all the extra noise, but I knew if I stopped even for a moment I would never make it. Tearing my eyes away from the slanted decent I could see the flat hard ground roll out not far from where I was; _I've almost made it! _

At last my feet touched down upon solid earth upon which I only took but a second to draw a new breath before turning toward the setting sun as quick as my own feet would carry me. I hadn't even the slightest idea where I was going, but from past experiences I'd learned to avoid any nearby villages; they were loyal followers of the Hassansins way and would just as quickly turn me over as they would take me in. The desert was just as malicious; traveling caravans were known for picking up lost wanders, but worse of all were the slave traders and raiders who called this desert their own. Fate would seem to be against me in any case, though I was lucky to at least have my speed. May be if I was lucky I would be able to out run anyone I came across. That is if they didn't have a horse, then I would be completely screwed.

After an hour of aching, bleeding feet I stopped to rest, hoping that I'd given myself enough of a head start. Through labored breath I glance back toward the mountain I'd just left, and was pleased that, even in the darkness it was nothing more than an unimpressive hill. _Was it always that small? _I placed my hands on my head to open up my lungs and gather more breath, preparing for another long stretch of running. In my hour of running I'd realized that I would never truly be safe from the Hassansin leader- that he would continue to hunt me till the day I went to meet the maker. Rolling my neck I turned around to continue forward only to come face to chest with a massive man.

"Shit." I went to move sideways only to find my path blocked by another giant figure, and two more covered my back and right, creating the human box. Now on a normal circumstance I would have no trouble dispatching these human walls; however I was unarmed and only ever so exhausted from my run. "Gentlemen. Maybe we can talk about this like civilized people?" I tried to reason, but a quick blow to the back of my neck told me these men were beyond reasoning as I fell into the smelly, hairy chest of the man who stood in front of me. My only regret; the smell of sweat would having been the last thing I had smelt before possibly meeting my doom.

"Is she dead?"

"It took them three days to throw out the last dead body, remember? You know they fed it to their dogs, right?"

"That's disgusting."

"Shh! It looks like she's waking up." Sure enough my eyes slowly opened to be greeted by a few other pairs, illuminated only by a faint light somewhere off in the distance. Pain radiated at the base of my skull where I had been knocked out, but I still attempt to gather a look at my settings.

I looked up; unable to see stars ahead, concluded that I was in a box of some sort, but one that was still exposed to the elements. I moved my fingers along the floor, and found moist straw as well as a hard metal cooled to my touch. _How cheery- a metal box. _Whoever these guys were they were professionals; wood boxes could easily be broken when enough forces was applied in the right areas, thus allowing all of the merchandise to run freely away into the night.

"Are you alright child?" A woman's voice asked in a hushed whisper. I rolled my head in her general direction.

"Well," I took a breath "I'm alive if that's what you mean. However being captured by slave traders wasn't very high on my list of things to do today." I only then realized that my knees bent till the point where I could feel the back of my heels resting against my butt. _Oh, and it's a __**small**__ metal cage. Even better. _Wishing to not take up anymore room I sat up, despite the throbbing in my head.

The women moved aside so that I might lean up against the bars of our enclosure, a welcomed gesture. The cold metal bar pressed against my spine was of some minor relief to the pain. Looking around I counted at least five women and two small girls, some of their clothes torn in places while others had tear stains running down their cheeks. Oh all the things in the world slave traders where the cruelest; sometimes they would kidnap unsuspecting women out of fields or roads to sell off for harems and brothels. But the children had it the worse; they would be sold to bidders who had a desire for the flesh of, well, young girls.

"Why were you traveling alone in such a dangerous place?" One of the women inquired. "Especially dressed the way you are." True enough for most women the way I was dressed might be considered provocative, but for me it was what I would wear for training; a red skin tight shirt paid with a pair of dark brown leather pants that stopped just about my knee. Over the pants I wore a loose tan pants duster sort of deal, with the inner legs being cut out so that it allowed for more mobility. Dirty bandages wound themselves up my shins, only allowing for minor protection against lower attacks.

"I was leaving an even more dangerous place, trust me."

Just then one of the slave captors seemed to notice our discussion and began to limber over in the way only a massive human being could.

"Quit yer yammering little birdies." His breath stank of alcohol as he pounded his meaty fist against the metal bars. The other women and girls squealed cowering as the metal cage vibrated from the fist, but I remained unfazed which only seemed to annoy the slaver more. "Eh, you. With the white hair." He pointed a finger that was the width of a small branch at me through the metal bars. I rolled my head to the side to look into his small black eyes. "You have a nice face, be a shame," he placed a hand on the dagger that was attached at his hip "to leave a mark on it."

"I'd like to see you try." His look was one of complete dumbfound-ment, as if he wasn't sure he'd properly heard the worlds that had come out of my mouth just a moment before. The women looked at me as if I'd had a death wish or something and I'll admit- I was feeling a bit feed up with this hindrance. "Why don't you let me out of this cage and we can settle this-" the scream that parted from his lips in the next moment made my heart falter. _Too late._

Before any of the man's comrades come even grab their weapons, shadows moved across the campsite, silently slitting each of their throats. Glistening red blood stained the sand as the fire continued to dance, the shadows moving about coming closer to the metal cage. Terrified the women moved inward away from the bars hoping that may be that would keep them safe, only I knew better than to pray for hope now.

Without warning the door to the cage swung open, causing the women to scream and huddle even closer together, but after a moment nothing happened. A brave woman stuck her head up above the rest, and when she saw nothing happening beyond the swinging door, crept forward.

"No! It is a trap! A demon's working." Warned another woman, grabbing her hand.

"It's no demon- it's a chance to get out while you can." I spoke calmly not moving from my own location, knowing if I made a move for that door it'd probably be my last. "I would take it." I looked into each of their eyes, to solidify my point. Turns out no one needed to be told twice. As the final woman moved to the entrance she stopped and glanced back at me.

"Are you not coming child?"

"No. Put as much distance between you and this place a fast a possible. Don't look back. Don't stop running. Keep going- no matter what you understand?" Her brown eyes studied me for a long moment before she too hopped down out of the cage and beyond the light of the fire. I watched her go until I could no longer tell the difference between her and the darkness, my heart sinking with each second.

"Very noble of you, to let those women and children go." My voice echoed across the deserted camp. For a moment their came no response, until figures stepped out from the shadows. Their beings seemingly dripping with the darkness from which they just stepped and fresh blood coated their weapons which they held, drawn to the ready at their sides. They stood just out of arms reach from the cage, encircling it each man with a sadistic smile upon his face.

"Noble? My dear Laleh, I think you've got me confused with another man." Balthazar's voice cooed from the shadows. He strode forward into the light of the fire, admiring a dagger he had undoubtedly stolen from one of the now dead slavers. I shuffled into the middle of the cage so that I could see him better, knowing full well to keep both eyes on Balthazar, the man dubbed "Master of Shadows"; one moment in front of you, behind you the next.

"You're right. Wrong man." I brought a knee up to my chest and place my arm upon it, never once looking away from Balthazar. "Why don't you just let me go, or kill me."

"Tsk, tsk, tsk." He sucked his tongue at me, as if to say I was thinking childish. "Laleh, you know death is so final and easy, but we can't just let you go either. What would the others say?" He glanced in my direction, his dead blue eyes glaring into my own. When I didn't respond he continued "Well. I think sometime in a cage will do you some good. I'll be back for you soon I would think, that is if you're still alive." He tossed the dagger into the flames, as if he'd become suddenly bored of it and began to move back toward the shadows until he stopped. "Oh, I'd almost forgotten. How silly of me." He smacked himself on the forehead with his palm. "Gazsi." One of the men around my cage turned and bowed low to Balthazar. "The women and children from earlier- kill them."

"No!" I screamed suddenly lurching forward, both hands gripping the cage bars in front of me. "Balthazar! Balthazar don't you kill them! Don't you dare!" I shook the cage violently, hoping that the bars would become unhinged and I would be free. Gazsi smirked and was gone within an instant along with five other men. Moments later screams echoed in from across the desert, but each of them short and futile. Hot tears rushed down my face as I slumped forward, my head hanging between my shoulders. "I will kill you Balthazar."

"I'd like to see you try." I felt his hot breath across my skin as his face sat only a few inches away from mine, but at the moment every fiber of my being was too heavy to move in any form of retaliation.

When I looked up again, the Hassansins had vanished back into the darkness, diminishing the fire casting me into a world of utter darkness. Sighing I moved away from the edge of the cage, knowing the smell of blood would bring one of the many predators that stalked the deserts; cheetahs, lions, jackals, etc. Best to be as far as possible and out of their reach as I could be, I had no intention of dying in this metal cage.

Sleeping wasn't an option either, for I knew I might roll over to the edge of the cage as I forced myself to stay awake and in an upright meditative position. As the cold set in I was glad I had remembered to bring my black cloak with me as to add just a bit of resistance to the bite of the night air. I closed my eyes and retreated far within my mind hoping to calmly find a way out of this situation that didn't involve my own possible death from Balthazar or predators. Nothing really came to me.

Two hours into the darkness I heard the first predators begin to snap its jaws at a corpse about a stones toss away. My heart beat intensified, but I told myself to remain calm as I tried to make out what I would be dealing with. From the little moonlight I saw a small figure and was relieved only to find a lone jackal had found its way here, but was uncomfortable for the remainder of the night as I listened to it tear away the dead man's flesh.


	4. Always and Forever: Chapter Two

Five days passed in a similar fashion and I could now feel the fatigue starting to set in. Lack of sleep, food, and water was beginning to take its toll, more so now that the larger predators had found what remained of the slavers. An hour into the fifth day they turned their attention to me, circling my cage waiting for their moment to strike. Under the cover of my black cloak I watched them, hoping a menacing glare would be enough to change their hopes of playing cat and mouse. Almost in a literal sense; some of the lions or cheetahs would reach in the cage and bat at the edges of my cloak, hoping to get a grip and pull me toward them. However I remained calm and simply tucked my cloak in underneath my body to make sure that didn't happen.

"So ladies and gentlemen. We enter the fifth day of this who'll give first challenge and our human competitor is looking pretty much out of it. Will today be the day she finally gives in? We'll just have to wait and see." I mumbled to myself. Five days without sleep tended to do things to one's mind, as if working it into overtime and frying it. The heat didn't help either, plus I was beginning to think the lion's knew it too.

My eyes felt as if the world rested a top them as they threatened to fall across my eyes. So absorbed in my attempt to stay awake I didn't notice the every predator begin to become restless as they moved about this way and that, as if looking for something out on the horizon. By the time I had reconvened myself, I found that all of my neighbors had long gone, leaving nothing other than decaying corpses and the buzzards.

"Where did everyone go?" I muttered swinging my head around as if I'd become drunk. "Are you guys hiding? Cause I'm, I'm not going to fall for it." I shouted into the wind. Nothing stirred in the blazing bright light of the afternoon sun, causing the paranoia to slightly shift. I honed my hearing and listened to what the desert might be trying to tell me, what could have convinced the predators to leave an easy meal?

Now either I'd truly gone mad but in the slight distance I could have sworn I heard a horse whiney, to which then I wished to have gone crazy. _They're coming back. _As the horses grew closer, the metal cage began to vibrate from the pounding of hooves drawing nearer. I tensed up my body knowing full well that I was in no condition to fight off an attack from Balthazar and the other Hassansins, but I wouldn't go quietly into the night either. Then rounding the cluster of rocks to the right rode in a group of men- but they were not Hassansins. Nor were they anytime of desert drifter, their garments clearly giving that much away.

With my hood pulled over my face enough to cast in into shadow I watched the men slow their pace to observe the carnage that they'd ridden into. So absorbed where they in their own observations that I had become completely over looked; a minor blow to my ego to be honest. May be they wouldn't even notice that I was sitting here, which I couldn't decide was a good or bad thing.

"There's someone alive in there!" So much for that thought. A man rushed forward as to open the cage.

"Wait!" A new voice emerged from the group of men. I cast my sight in his direction and found a rather attractive man with shoulder length light brown hair, that seemed to contrast against his white tunic and tanned leather armor. "They may be in there for a reason." The first man back away slowly, suddenly cognitive of this thought as well. The attractive man strode forward on a fine chestnut mare, a symbol of his wealth and status, until he was just out of arms reach from the metal bars. "Reveal yourself."

"On who's orders?" I calmly responded. The voice of a woman suddenly changed everyone's expressions as they cast glances at each other then back to the campsite around them.

"On the orders of the prince, son and heir to the throne of Persia." His voice mingled with arrogance as he spoke his own titles.

"Ah; Prince Tus, I assume." I smirked in the safety of my hood having heard the stories of the Persian prince. Slowly reaching out from the cloak I pull my hood back and felt my blonde curls tumble out of their confinement. "It is an honor sir."

As if finding out I was a woman made everyone's attitude change pretty quickly; no one's more quickly than the Persian prince. Finding his manners, prince Tus graciously slid off his horse and moved to the cage's bars.

"My dear lady…"He muttered, his eyes studying the curvature of my face. "Pray tell- what is your name?"

"Laleh." He seemed disappointed by my response "Expecting someone else?"

"You just resemble someone I knew from a long time ago. I had hoped you'd be her, but no matter. Now," Tus adjusted his robes "why is it you have been placed within this cage?"

"I'm not very responsive to authority." I teased even though I felt as if every word winded me. Tus smirked and walked just a bit closer to the cage, still just out of arms reach incase I made a move. _Move. _Just the word made my head swim.

"And these slavers?" He gestured to the scattered remains behind him. "Was this your work?"

"As much as I would like to claim responsibility for their deaths, sadly, no. I do not know how to work a blade." So that last part was a lie, but would probably be better in the long run if the Royal Guard didn't know I too was a Hassansin. "As they slept another group of slavers ambushed them, putting them to the blade quickly. Then took the other women and children, only I wasn't so complacent. I fought, and well, I think you know the rest of the story." I nodded toward the cage bars.

"They left you here? Someone as beautiful as you?" Tus seemed to have a hard time believing the story.

"To teach a lesson to the other women- it doesn't matter how pretty you are; Obey or die." He remained quiet for a moment, mulling over the story within his head, however I was growing impatient and increasingly worried that Balthazar might decide to pop by for a torture visit.

"Look-" I moved to stand up, but my head became suddenly very light. I extended my hand out hoping that something would stop my downward decent. Unfortunately, in a move that made me look like an idiot, my hand completely bypassed the metal bar right in front of me, causing my face to run full force into the metal. It didn't really help the headache either.

I slumped onto my back, my whole body feeling the vibrations of the cage violently shake through my body, or was I just violently shaking? The whole world seemed to move in unison and I felt someone grab my extended hand through the metal bars, as if trying to comfort me. _Not really working. _I wanted to shout, but found my mouth drier than the sands I called home. Darkness creped upon the corners of my vision, threatening to take the world with it. No matter how hard I fought to stay awake and in the light, the darkness descended.

I remembered regaining conscious a few times; feeling a breeze through my hair, the swaying motion of riding a horse, strong hands carrying me, and finally being laid down into a pillow large enough to envelope my entire body. Never before had anything felt as fantastic as that pillow.

Sweet smoke filled my lungs, nearly choking me as I was forced to wake up. I coughed a few times to empty the smoke from my breathing way, catching someone's attention a few feet away from my makeshift bed.

"Ah, you've awakened." Tus' smooth voice drifted through the air, greeting me with another wave of smoke.

"Survived five days in a cage only to be suffocated by smoke, yes." I coughed once more attempting to wave the away the smoke. I opened my eyes and found myself lying in a lavishly decorated traveling tent; fit of course only for the Persian royalty.

"For someone saved, you are quite ungrateful." Tus mussed playfully across the tent, eyeing documents lying on a low table in front of him. I propped up to my elbows I searched for the nearest exits, in case of a hasty escape would be needed. "I wouldn't bother."

"Bother what?" I asked innocently.

"Running." Tus peeled away from the document to study me. "One you are in no condition to run. Second, guards surround this tent; so I imagine you wouldn't get very far."

"Worth a shot." I lay back down onto the pillow and placed my hands behind my head. "So what do you want? I can't fathom why a prince would save anybody for free."

"Oh no." Tus smirked. "Your freedom comes with a price." I rolled my head to look at him expecting to see some sort of lustful desire in his eyes, but found nothing other than childish humor. _Obviously this price isn't sex. Not with him at least…_

"Oh? Well then please- enlighten me."

"I have a brother-"I rolled my eyes and moved to stand up, but Tus continued, "Now wait just a moment. Hear me out. I have a brother whose birthday is this week. He has no wife or concubines."

"Your reasoning is becoming less reasonable." I interrupted, continuing my upward motion as to leave the tent and brave the wilds once more.

"He is this way by choice. Every year, on his birthday, sheiks, noblemen, and other mentionable men offer him their daughters, subjects, or own concubines. And every year he turns them down." I stopped walking toward the door; simply out of kindness because I imagine princes' aren't used to being ignored. "These women are beautiful beyond compare, trust me, but he never accepts one. Over five days of celebration they are brought and declined."

"And what," I commented loudly "does this have to do with me?" Crossing my arms I leaned against the frame of the make-shift doorway, eyes scanning the horizon.

"I want you to be my final gift for the fifth day. I'm basically giving you your freedom." Tus reasoned, standing from his desk and walking halfway toward me. "He's never taken a wife all these years, so what's the change this pattern now?" It was true that Tus' reason seemed sound. _Show up to a party, eat, drink, get offered as a concubine, rejected, freed. _Overall it wasn't the worst plan I had heard.

"And those are your only terms?" I asked after mulling over the idea for a moment in my head.

"Yes." Came the hasty reply from the prince.

"How can one say no to a prince?" I turned, arms still crossed. Clearly the idea of even being offered as a gift to someone wasn't a pleasant one, but what other choice did I have. "I'm in." A large smile broke across Tus' face, showing his boyish manner. It was going to be a long trip.

The return trip to Avrat from our location was roughly a three day journey when you're a normal person, but when you're traveling with royalty the trip takes more like a week. Royal appearances, allies, crowds of admiring commoners, it never seemed to end. I really hoped this brother wouldn't accept me, because I was not cut out for this kind of lifestyle of popularity.

Tus, wishing to keep my appearance a secret till the celebration, had offered me a large, golden shawl, to cover my entire body with.

"Yes because nothing says "not important" as a giant gold wrapped woman." I said glancing over the very decorative cloth with its fine beading and intricate patterns. "No thank you." I handed it back to the prince, his shock very apparent.

"Then what shall you wear?" He puzzled.

"This." I motioned toward my own clothing. "And preferably a cloak with a hood. Something plain and not standout-ish."

After moving through the small rural towns of the Persian kingdom, the ascending towers of Avrat became clearer as we traveled closer to the capitol. I had been moved within the royal guard with my tattered brown cloak to not draw attention to the Prince, however amongst their fine gold trimmed uniforms I stood out even more. I probably looked like a prisoner in reality which did explain the glares and shouts I received from passing villagers.

"Ignore them m'lady." A guard spoke beside me.

"I'm used to this treatment by now, do not worry." I gripped the reigns of the horse and continued to stare ahead at the looming gateway before me. Forged of mud and brick it was nothing overly extravagant to look at but stood six feet thick with heavy wooden and iron doors to bar the entrance. Clearly this had one purpose- keep invaders out. Traveling through the lower districts of Avrat, many peasants cheered Tus, but continued to move throughout their business in an ant like ferocity.

The second gates were more decorated with common gem stones and a thinner wooden door; this marked our movement into the middle class. We saw even less greetings as merchants shouted orders at their apprentices to hurry up with orders or how they'd missed a certain detail.

"All this is for the celebration?" I asked no one in particular my eyes moving around the open bazaar of moving bodies.

"Persian celebrations are known for their extravagance and beauty. Many different nations come from around the continent for a Prince's celebration for it promises never to be a bore." One of the guards responded as we neared the final doors to the palace. These doors we not massive, or thick, instead were made of sturdy stone decorated with murals and images of past Persian victories and conquests. _Nothing says "Welcome" like "hey remember that time we beat you and everyone else?" _I thought ironically to myself as our party entered the gates.

The scene beyond the wall was nothing less than what I had come to expect of the Persian royalty; lavish green plants neatly organized the courtyard, contrasting to the light brown dirt. A large, marble fountain poured cool water down into a long pool that stretched the length of the courtyard, reflecting light upon the brown walls that danced calmly without a care. The palace itself was something to behold, with its large dome covered in glazed tiles of blue and purple, while all along the balconies precious gem stones stood out against the pale white marble. Glistening in the afternoon sun, placed high upon the domes were balls of pure gold, or so the rumors went. Those were often the envy of many poor people who gazed up at the palace from down below in the out districts of Avrat.

"She is something of a beauty, isn't she?" Tus had slowed down to ride beside me.

"I've seen better." I smirked at the prince and looked away from the marble. "But she is something." Tus cast a sideway smile at me and continued on ahead of the group just as we arrived at the large double doors of the palace. No sooner than Tus had dismounted, did a sea of golden clad figures pour out from those doors to take his horse and usher him back within the palace. Rising my eyebrows quizzically I too dismounted with the rest of the guards, and no sooner than my feet touching the ground did a presence walk up behind me. Twirling on my heel with my senses alert I was surprised to find a small cluster of gold servants around me. Apparently they were just as surprised as I was to see them.

"Uh…can I help you?" I asked after a moment of shared awkwardness. Like cracking a whip the servants moved about, silently whispering to themselves they took the reins of my horse from my hands and began urging me into the palace. "Well it certainly is nice to meet you guys as well."

Inside the palace was more phenomenal than the outside, or at least I assumed it was. My gold troupe didn't really let me stop to admire it for very long as I was escorted quickly from room to room in an almost maze like manner. Finally after I was sure that all of the pulling was only intended to elongate my arms, we stopped inside a small, ornately decorated room with a balcony overlooking the city of Avrat. I moved further inside the room of my own will, my eyes captivated by the view through the open door, but it was short lived as one of the servants quickly closed the doors.

"Hey I was-" One of the women removed my cloak, with quick fingers as others began pulling off other articles of clothing. "Hey. Whoa, whoa." I shoved them away, fixing my clothes. "I don't think so." The women glanced at each other, clearly unsure what to do now, hesitantly they took a step forward with outstretched hands. "No." I pointed at them each individually making my point very clear. The women were beginning to move forward once again, when the sound of the door knob twisting caught all of our attention.

Wearing a new set of clothing, in walked Tus along with five other servants, each one carrying a different object for the prince; a pitcher, a gold cup, and various stacks of papers, probably documents of great importance. Tus glanced up from the paper he held in his hand and at the scene before him, which I could have only assumed was slightly humorous due to the small smile flirted on his lips.

"I see you're getting along with the staff." He spoke as he took the cup from one of the servants and handed off the paper to another.

"Oh, yeah, we're getting along famously." I slapped away a hand that traveled too close. "Remind me again what they're trying to do." Tus smiled coyly.

"Why they're trying to bathe you of course."

"Of course." I retorted sharply. "You know I _can_ bathe myself."

"Hmm." Tus took a sip from his cup and handed it back to the servant. "Oh I have no doubts about that. A woman like yourself can probably do many things by herself, however," He paused to sign a paper. "this is much more humorous to watch. Let them bathe you and prepare you for the party of your life, Laleh." With that he turned and walked out of the room before I would muster a witty response. The sounds of the door closing echoed through the room as I glanced at the other servants.

"Ladies, please-"

I mean if I really wanted to I could have easily avoided this situation entirely, but they were just doing their jobs. So there I sat, in a tub of hot, soapy bath water while the women cleaned my hair and washed away the dirt from my skin. Needless to say there was a lot of it; hassansins weren't real big on the whole "hygiene" thing mostly being men and all.

"Ow." I complained as they roughly rubbed away at my arms and scalp, but not once did the ease up on their assault. I opened my mouth again to say something but a fresh bucket of hot water crashed down upon my head and funneled into my open mouth. "Never mind." I remained silent for the remainder of the wash.

Luckily that wasn't a long wait time, as I was quickly taken out of the water and into the cooling air of the evening. After the whole bath fiasco, I kind of just gave the servants leeway to do whatever they wanted since it was clear that only Tus's word would be the one to stop them. I closed my eyes retreated deep within my mind, thinking about everything that was happening. _Balthazar has probably already figured out I've gotten away… would he be crazy enough to follow me here to the Persian capitol? _The thought brought me back with a sickening realization that everyone here could potentially be in danger. For if Balthazar was true in his conquest of me, he would never stop. _He's not that much of an idiot. _ I reassured myself, praying that I was right.

"Are you almost done here? The festivities are about…uh…" Tus's voice in the room surprised everyone, no one more than myself, who had been so deep in thought to not have heard the door open. I turned to look at the prince who stood in the door way with his mouth half open as he searched for the words to say.

"What? Is there something on my face?" I asked bringing my hand up to my cheek, only to feel a veil sitting neatly across my face so that only my eyes showed. "What the..?" I glanced down and found myself wrapped in a deep blue sash with silver beading speckled throughout and an embroidered silver hem of ornate design. Underneath the sash, a cut off blouse of the same color showed of my toned stomach thought I was happy to say that the sash made some of my scars almost unnoticeable. A skirt hung loosely on my hips, falling straight down to my feet and was also decorated in a silver threading. I glanced across the room into a small mirror and saw my face was covered also by the sash as it swept around my shoulders and wrapped itself neatly on top of my head.

"You look…stunning." Tus managed at last.

"I look like a nun."

"Not one I have ever seen" He smiled "I almost wish I could keep you for myself, dear Laleh." He moved closer to inspect. I removed the veil from my face and crossed my arms.

"A deal is a deal, remember?" My serious tone brought his eyes back to my face. He smiled half heartedly and took a step back with his hands held up in defense.

"You are right. A deal is a deal."

"Right. Now remind me again why I'm completely covered up again?" I motioned to my clothes with slight annoyance. I wasn't a big fan of skirts.

"It is your first time attending such an event, you must be there to get the full experience, but you are also the main attraction so we can't have you drawing too much attention." He straightened his white tunic. "Which is why you will be arriving with the rest of my harem this evening, and you will remain under this veil," moving closer he placed the veil back across my face. "For the rest of the evening. Is that understood?"

"Yes, your highness." I bowed with mock humility. He smiled none the less and held out his arm for me to take. _This is going to be a long night. _


End file.
